“Perhaps,” said Kaffar, who spoke for the first time, “Mr. Blake would like some proofs.  Perhaps he would like not only to see manifestations of the power of the unseen, but to feel them.  Ah! pardon me, ladies and gentlemen, but I cannot stand by and hear the greatest of all sciences maligned, and still be quiet.  I cannot be silent when that which is dearer to me than life itself is submitted to the cool test of bigoted ignorance.  You may not believe it true, but I would give much to know what Ilfra the Understanding One knew.  I was reared under Egypt’s sunny skies; I have lain under her stately palms and watched the twinkling stars; I am a child of the East, and believe in the truths that are taught there.  I have only dabbled in the mysteries of the unseen, but I know enough to tell you that what my friend says is true.”

Was this a ruse on the part of the Egyptian?  Looking at the whole matter in the light of what followed I believe it was.  And yet at the time I did not know.

“I am sorry,” I replied, “if I have caused annoyance.  But we English people possess the right of our opinions.  However, I do not wish to bias other minds, and trust that my scepticism may cause no unpleasantness.”

“But would Mr. Blake like to be convinced?” said Voltaire.

“I am perfectly indifferent about the matter,” I replied.

“That is very convenient for one who has stated his beliefs so doggedly.  Certainly I do not think that is English; if it is, I am glad I am not an Englishman.”

With this he fixed his eyes steadily on me, and tried to fasten my attention, but did not at the time succeed.

“I was asked for my opinion,” I said; “I did not force it.  But still, since you place it in that light, I should like to be convinced.”

By this time the interest manifested in the matter was great.  Every one watched breathlessly for what was to be done or said next, and certainly I felt that I was regarded by the guests in anything but a favourable light.

I saw Voltaire and Kaffar exchanging glances, and I felt sure that I heard the former say in Arabic, “Not yet.”

After this the two arranged to give us some manifestations of their power.  While they were conversing I went across the room and spoke to Miss Forrest; but she was very reserved, and I thought her face looked very pale.

“This is becoming interesting,” I said.

“I wish you had said nothing about his story,” was her reply.

“Pray why?”

She only shook her head.

“Surely you do not believe in his foolish story or conjuring tricks?” I said laughingly.

But she did not reply in the same vein.

“Mr. Voltaire is a wonderful man,” she said, “a clever man.  If I were a man I should not like to make him my enemy.”

“I have heard of an old saying at my home,” I replied, “which ran something like this, ‘Brag is a good dog, but Holdfast is better.’”